Fateless
by MissMoony7575
Summary: Isabel, Merlin’s twin sister, has never believed in destiny. Life was what you make it and you always have a choice. But her decisions cannot override the tides of fate… or can they? Implied MerlinxArthur.
1. Prologue

**F A T E L E S S**

x.x.x

Well, here's my new Merlin fanfiction that I've been dreaming up. It follows the story of Isabel, an OC that is Merlin's twin sister. I hope you enjoy the story! Please review and tell me what you think!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Isabel, Merlin's twin sister, has never believed in destiny. Life was what you make it and you always have a choice. But her decisions cannot override the tides of fate… or can they?

x.x.x

PROLOGUE

x.x.x

One year ago, it had been the happiest day of Hunith's life.

After hours of labour, pain, and contractions, came forth two beautiful children. It had been hard, but when her mother had handed the children to her, wrapped in pure white linen cloth, and Hunith looked down at the two, she felt her heart might explode with happiness. She felt so weak that she might be knocked down by a feather, and waves of fatigue washed over her, but she could not bring herself to look away from the babies.

They looked up at her like she was the only thing they knew. The twins had eyes of striking blue, like the colour of the sea on a beautiful sunny day. She felt tears streaming from her eyes – tears of joy. She imagined all the memories they would make together, the experiences they would share, the joy they would bring and the people they would become.

She lay there, gazing fondly at the children and wondering whether life could get any better.

Today, however, it was a completely different story.

'Hunith, the knights are coming!' cried one of the other women in the village.

Hunith was completely distressed, tearing at her hair and rocking her two children. Merlin and Isabel, she had named them. They were so, so beautiful. Hunith started to cry, but shook her head, trying to banish the tears. She had to be strong.

Little Merlin and Isabel could sense that something was wrong; they was agitated and crying. Cooing, Hunith tried to calm them but it was having as much effect as trying to calm herself.

'Quick!' the woman called. Hunith didn't know what to do. Should she run, should she stay? She hadn't done anything wrong, for heaven's sakes! Why should she have to choose?

Yesterday, King Uther's wife had died. True, it was a great tragedy for the kingdom – Queen Igraine was a lovely, compassionate woman that was the softness to Uther's rather disciplinary measures. Everybody loved Queen Igraine, and she was deeply grieved over. But now, it had been found that sorcery was the thing that killed her, and King Uther had called an urgent search of the _entire kingdom_ to exterminate any sorcerers found. Any sorcerer was to be killed on the spot.

Obviously, this would prove futile. Any person capable of sorcery would surely not show their magical capabilities while the knights were present, or leave any magical items lying around carelessly. The search wouldn't find any sorcerers, unless they were complete idiots or already under suspicion.

However, Isabel was a completely different story. Ever since the day of her birth, Isabel had been different.

It started when Hunith had left the room for a moment, just to bring the food from the kitchen to the children. When she came back, the room was in chaos. Chairs were flying about the room, the table had been upturned, forks, spoons and knives circled in the air like flying eagles looking for prey, the contents of the cupboards were whirling around and forming a tornado, and to top it all off, little Merlin was in the air as well! Isabel's eyes were not their usual sea blue, but pure gold, the colour of King Uther's crown.

Isabel could do magic!

Hunith quickly calmed the two children (Merlin was crying – obviously not liking levitating in mid air), and that night, she thought. Why her child? Was this for good or bad?

She tried to keep it under check, especially when other people were around in the house, but that was not always possible. Isabel was unpredictable – Hunith often found flying items everywhere, as well as other things – such as the spontaneous lighting of candles, the upturning of bowls of food (especially vegetables – Isabel _hated_ vegetables), and once Isabel had cried and ended up flooding the entire house.

Halfway through Merlin and Isabel's first year, a mysterious man had turned up on their doorstep and made his way into the house. He wore a dark cloak, with a hood that obscured his face, and carried a stick that looked suspiciously like a sorcerer's mace.

Hunith was perplexed, but she didn't dare stop the man, just in case he started a fight. When he bent over the children, Hunith screamed but he didn't touch them, merely watched the two sleeping babies.

'Merlin,' he said in a deep gravelly voice, pointing to little Merlin, 'will be great. He will sit alongside Arthur when he becomes King, and will cause Camelot to flourish. He is destined for great things – Merlin and Arthur, together, will bring Camelot to ranks of greatness never before seen in this kingdom.

'But Isabel,' said the man, saying the name like it was abhorrent to his ears. Hunith shivered. 'She will not. It would have been better for Camelot if she had never been born. She will be the downfall of Merlin and Arthur, and the downfall of this whole kingdom.'

Sweeping his cloak up in what seemed like a superfluously dramatic fashion, the man took one last look at the children, whispered something that Hunith could not hear, and then left.

Hunith breathed deeply, relieved that the man had not hurt her children. The relief pushed the prophecy out of her mind, but later that night, she turned over the man's words and wondered. Merlin, Merlin would be great. But what about Isabel? How could such a sweet little girl be the downfall of the kingdom?

The only thing Hunith could think of, was Isabel's magic. Was King Uther right to forbid sorcery? It seemed useful at times, but absolutely detestable at others. But surely, Isabel would _never_ use her powers for evil? Hunith could never imagine such a thing.

So she told herself that the man had just been a lunatic, and his words amounted to nothing.

But slowly, things started to change. Instead of just flying items, Hunith found stranger things happening. One of her chickens mysteriously died, and all the evidence she found was a giggling Isabel. The crops next door refused to grow one spring, for no apparent reason. It started to scare Hunith, but the last thing she wanted to do was blame her own daughter.

There was a knock at the door, and Hunith was jerked suddenly from her thoughts.

'Knights of Camelot, here for inspection!' a man shouted.

'Be there in a minute!' shouted Hunith, trembling. Quickly she hid Isabel in the larder, praying that nothing would happen, and rushing back to the door.

She composed herself, and then opened the door. Two young men were standing in the doorway, red cloaks billowing in the wind and standing tall.

'Mind if we have a look? We are here on King Uther's orders, to search for sorcerers,' said the knight.

'Of course,' said Hunith, sounding much more confident than she felt. She was shaking, but she hoped the knights wouldn't notice.

They strode in, and started to search. Hunith was praying silently. They looked through all the rooms quite speedily – obviously they had a tight schedule. After minutes of agonising anxiety for Hunith, the knights returned.

'You're fine, sorry for the inconvenience,' said one of the knights.

'No worries,' said Hunith, her heart rate relaxing. They had not found Isabel. Everything was going to be okay.

They were just turning to leave, when a sound broke through the silence.

It was the giggle of a little girl.

'What was that?' they asked, turning back swiftly and on guard, taking out their swords.

'N-N-Nothing,' stuttered Hunith. Not now, she prayed, not now! 'Please, I beg you, put your swords away, I'm sure it's just one of the kids next door outsi-'

The knights paid her no attention, they stalked through the rooms, wary of any little movement. Suddenly, the larder door burst open, and revealed a gurgling, giggling baby with golden eyes.

'What is this?' the knight demanded. Hunith shook, and found that she could not say a word.

'Why is this baby he-' The knight's words were cut short by a sudden crash from the other side of the room. The knight swirled around and found the contents of a cupboard floating in the air, the drawers opening and closing erratically and the baby giggling.

'What is this, sorcery?' the knight asked Hunith savagely.

'Please –' said Hunith.

'It's the baby,' said the knight. 'Look at her eyes.'

Isabel was not aware of Hunith's terror, or the knights' stares. She carried on giggling, and causing havoc. One of the knights let out a loud shout that shook the whole hut – his cloak had been pulled over his eyes, completely obscuring his vision and rendering him blind. Yet nobody had touched him.

Quickly, the other knight removed the cloak from his face and returned it to its proper place.

'What was that?' asked the knight, flustered. Isabel giggled.

'This baby can do magic,' said the knight gravely.

'No, please!' said Hunith, as the knight took Isabel in his arms. 'She has done nothing wrong – it's natural –'

'I am going to have to take this baby from you, madam. She is a dangerous sorcerer, and must be eliminated immediately,' said the knight.

'No!' screamed Hunith, dropping Merlin and falling to her knees, pulling at the knight's legs. 'She's only a baby – please…'

The knight couldn't bring himself to look at the pleading mother, or the little baby. He shook the begging woman off, and stormed out of the room, followed by his accomplice, leaving in a flurry of red clothes.

Hunith ran out to catch them, to plead, to beg – she would do _anything_, but they were on their horses and had ridden off into the wilderness, taking her one daughter with them.

Hunith fell to the floor and cried and cried and cried.

x.x.x

The two knights were in the wood.

'What do we do with her – it?' asked the first knight. He was afraid to call the baby 'her' – he didn't want to personalise the little thing before he had to kill it. She – it was a sorcerer, a dangerous criminal that could one day ruin the kingdom! And yet, as the knight looked at the little baby, with golden eyes and a cute smile, he could barely believe it.

'King Uther's orders – kill any sorcerer you find,' said the second knight, with not much decisiveness. The first knight snapped his attention away from the baby – it would only weaken his resolve further.

'Okay,' said the first knight, taking a deep breath. 'How?'

Hesitantly, the second knight drew his sword.

'NO!' cried the first knight, instinctively shielding the baby with his body and staring at the second knight in horror. The second knight sheathed his sword and looked to the ground.

'Not like that,' he said. The first knight nodded.

'How, then?' the first knight asked. The baby was giggling. He couldn't look at her – it would be the downfall of him, that gurgling laugh.

'Um…' said the second knight. 'There's a river nearby. We wouldn't have to watch it.'

The first knight breathed deeply.

'Okay,' he said. They rode to the river, careful not to look at the baby, and stopped at the river's edge. The river was bubbling cheerily, unaware that it was about to be the murderer of an innocent child.

'Do we just, leave it there?' asked the second knight. The first knight paused, and then shouted in agony.

'We can't do it, we can't do it, we can't do it!' he shouted. The inner turmoil was evident in both knights. They finally looked at the baby – she was cute, she was laughing and _she was innocent_.

'But King Uther –' said the second knight.

'No,' said the first knight. 'I will not be the murderer of a baby, not even for King Uther,' he said resolutely.

'Okay,' said the second knight. 'What do we do with the baby then?' he asked.

The first knight paused, thinking. Then he came up with an idea.

'This river – I know it. It is the Aren River – it runs all the way into the next kingdom, Elden. If we leave the baby to float on the river, she will eventually find her way into Elden, and surely someone will find her. We will rid Albion of one sorcerer, as King Uther asks, but also save the baby.'

'Okay,' said the second knight. They worked quickly – emptying their food basket and carefully placing the little baby inside it. They took one last look at Isabel before placing the basket gently in the river. Her eyes were still golden, and she had the most adorable smile on her face.

Taking a deep breath, the first knight gave the basket a push, and before long, the current of the river carried the basket away, holding in its grasp the life of a small baby called Isabel, that would one day be the downfall of the entire kingdom.

x.x.x


	2. Chapter 1

Hi guys! Here's the first chapter of Fateless.

I don't think this fanfiction will have a lot of romance, to warn you, maybe a slightly implied ArthurxMerlin but that's it, unless I change my mind :).

Enjoy the chapter!

-Lauren

x.x.x

CHAPTER 1

x.x.x

The air of the night was thick with terror.

Isabel could hear people screaming, the sounds of swords being drawn and terrible shouts from within the castle. It was chaos – there was something very, very evil afoot.

Isabel knew she had to run, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to move.

Plus, she was lost. She was standing in the middle of a square she didn't know, surrounded by people fleeing, but in all different directions, with no sort of order at all. Where was she meant to go? What was she meant to do? And why was she rooted to the spot?

If she didn't move soon, the evil would find her. Isabel's heart was pounding and horror filled her. Why couldn't she move? What was wrong with her?

Now, streams of magic were darting across the square. Fireballs, jets of water, blue energy beams – they terrorised the people and flew around the square like stray toys thrown by a kid throwing a tantrum. Magic! This really was a disaster – magic was more potent than a thousand swords. It must have been an extremely powerful sorcerer's work – the magic was strong and had been persisting in attacking the people for a few minutes now – most sorcerers would be near death from the exhaustion such spells would cause! But not this one. This unseen sorcerer was… invincible.

By some miracle, Isabel found herself unharmed by all the magic. Still, she was too terrified to move. Any longer and surely a spell would hit her, and that would be the end.

_Run!_ she screamed at herself.

_**You can't run.**_

Oh God, Isabel thought, it was that voice again. The voice that plagued all her nightmares, the voice that got inside her head like a tapeworm and spoke in that deathly soft, dangerous and taunting voice. She hated, despised, and deeply feared it – it was the one thing she was scared of. And now it was back.

_I need to run!_ she screamed.

_**You can't run.**_

With a surge of willpower, she shook her head and, even though it was like wading through thick honey, willed her legs to move. She was trying as hard as she could – this was a matter of life or death. But still, her legs were rooted to the spot. There was nothing she could do.

_**I told you, you can't run.**_

It was the voice. The voice was evil, the voice was what was doing all these things. The unknown sorcerer had got inside her head, where there was no escape. Isabel tried to scream, but no noise came out. There was no one to help her – everyone around was running, they didn't look at her at all.

_Why can't I run?_ Isabel asked herself desperately. But it was the voice that answered.

_**Because…**_Isabel found herself floating up above her place in the square – was she dead? Was her soul ascending to heaven? If the voice would just leave her, she wouldn't mind death…

Isabel now had a bird's eye view of the square, she was looking down upon the magic and fleeing people like God, the orchestrator of the world. When she gazed down, she was filled with horror to the very tips of her toes.

There she was, standing in the middle of the square. Isabel could see herself, still rooted to the spot, with her long black hair billowing in the wind behind her. Yet there was no terror on her face – in fact, Isabel saw that she was almost… smiling. Why would she be smiling?

Then she saw it. Out of her own hand, a jet of blue energy, that hit a commoner and sent him sprawling to the ground.

There was no unknown sorcerer, there was no great evil: it was Isabel herself.

_**You are the one doing this. **_

x.x.x

'Lady Isabel, your mother requests you wake up,' said her maid, Eleanor.

Isabel woke up with a start, called from the terrible dream by blissful reality. She was sweating and her eyes were bloodshot, her breathing fast and shallow.

It had all just been a dream… Relief flooded her. It wasn't real – there wasn't terror, and she was certainly not the one causing it.

Still, it shook her.

Ever since Isabel could remember, events that concerned her always seemed to happen in the oddest of manners. When she was about five years old, she had been angry at her mother one night. She returned to her room in a fury, all riled up, and the next thing she knew, all her things were flying about the room, creating a mini-tornado. When that hateful Lord Bert came around, he really annoyed Isabel. He was rude to her parents and even ruder to Isabel. Bad things started to happen to him – he spilled his soup all over his lap, he lost his sword, he had an accident with his horse that almost broke his neck, and when he rode away, a report came the next day that he had been killed by a group of muggers. And it wasn't just when she was angry. One time, when she was out playing in the woods with Zachary (or _Prince_ Zachary as everyone else called him), they were climbing trees. It had been a beautiful sunny day, and Isabel was feeling particularly joyous. In seconds from when she was standing at the base of the tree, she mysteriously found herself at the very top of a 10m tall pine tree. When Zachary had almost fallen from his horse, Isabel found that she looked at the saddle and suddenly Zachary had righted himself, and was riding normally. King Tristan called it a miracle, Isabel suspected something else.

She was 13 years old when she first found that she could _control_ this mysterious force, the force she found out was called magic. Within the privacy of her chambers, she started to practice magic, and found that she was very good at it – gifted at this weird skill. All the spells were easy to her, and there seemed to be nothing she was incapable of doing.

Inconspicuously, she brought up questions about magic to her parents, but her parents didn't tell her much. Magic had been outlawed by King Tristan 20 years ago at the insistence of King Uther, the king of the neighbouring kingdom, when King Uther's wife had been killed by sorcery. Magic was a taboo subject. From what scarce information Isabel had collected, magic was used by sorcerers, who learnt spells from long books of spells and had to use incantations and study for many years.

However, Isabel didn't have to use incantations at all – it was as if magic was in her very blood, her very being. Of course, her parents told her that magic was very evil, so from then on she refrained from using it, but still, when she was alone, she got the itch to use her ability.

'Isabel?' said Eleanor, shaking Isabel out of her thoughts. Eleanor was really sweet, conscientiously did her work every day but also was a good friend of Isabel's. 'Are you alright?'

'I'm okay,' said Isabel dismissively. 'It was just a nightmare, nothing to worry about.' Isabel forced a smile, but Eleanor suspected that it _was_ something to worry about, from Isabel's dishevelled hair and scared eyes.

'Are you sure?' said Eleanor. Most maids wouldn't dare question their mistress, but Eleanor and Isabel were past the normal maid/mistress relationship. Eleanor cared about Isabel, and whenever Isabel had these nightmares, Eleanor could tell that her mistress was always deeply shaken.

'I'm fine,' said Isabel, forcing another smile, this time wider and one that she hoped would put Eleanor at ease.

'Okay,' said Eleanor, knowing something was wrong but also knowing that Isabel wouldn't tell her until she was ready.

Isabel rose from the bed with the all the grace of a princess. Of course, Isabel wasn't quite a princess, but she was still a pretty fortunate girl.

She grew up at the top of the social ladder, frequently surrounded by nobility and even royalty. Her parents were nobles, that were good friends of King Tristan, and together they lived in the royal palace. Prince Zachary had been a close friend of Isabel's for years. Whatever Isabel wanted, she was almost certain to get.

Her parents had never told her that they were not her real parents; that they had really found her floating in the river, in a basket, without a note or explanation.

As far as Isabel knew, she was of noble blood, and her life was, quite frankly, perfect.

'What do I have to do today?' Isabel asked Eleanor.

'The King himself has requested you and your family's presence at breakfast,' replied Eleanor. 'I suspect it is something important.'

'The King? King Tristan?' asked Isabel.

'Yes, what other king?' said Eleanor, a little teasingly.

'What for?' asked Isabel. Usually, they had dinner with the king, occasionally lunch, but hardly ever breakfast.

'I don't know,' said Eleanor. 'Try and get ready quickly – I will go inform your mother that you are awake.'

Isabel nodded.

'Thanks Eleanor,' said Isabel.

'Try not to hurt yourself while I'm gone!' teased Eleanor. Isabel shook her head but grinned. Only Eleanor could get away with teasing Isabel. Isabel had a habit of being rather clumsy, and often found herself tripping, stumbling, falling, or knocking valuable, breakable items over.

'I won't,' said Isabel, grinning.

As Eleanor left, Isabel felt the smile on her face dissolve and her lips straightened into a hard line. She could still remember the nightmare – it was as vivid as real life, as if it had just happened last night. Usually dreams drifted away at morning light – but not her nightmares. Isabel could recount every single one of her nightmares to meticulous detail, and this one didn't seem like it was going to be leaving her anytime soon.

Okay, so Isabel could do magic. But that didn't make her a sorcerer, that didn't make her evil by default! Surely, she could use her powers for good. Like the time she had saved Zachary, or the time she had chased away that sorcerer that attacked the palace.

But if so, why did her dream portray her as evil? _Was_ she evil? Did magic automatically make a person evil? Isabel didn't want to believe it, but that was what her parents and King Tristan had been telling her about magic all her life.

The cold water that hit her face interrupted her thoughts. Washing her face was always something that seemed to cleanse Isabel, in more ways than one. She shook the nightmare from her mind and got on with getting ready for breakfast. There was no point dwelling in dreams when real life beckoned.

Eleanor returned just in time to help Isabel into her dress. Isabel planted a smile on her face as soon as she heard the door creaking open.

'Which one should I wear today?' Isabel asked, consulting Eleanor. She valued Eleanor's opinion like almost none of the other women in court valued their maids' opinions. Eleanor always had good advice, and was the sensibility to match Isabel's farfetched imagination.

'I suspect it is quite an important occasion, the King has asked for you specifically,' advised Eleanor. 'Maybe the yellow gown?'

Isabel thought. Eleanor had impeccable taste. She studied the yellow gown that Eleanor had retrieved from her wardrobe. It was a bright, cheery yellow, perfect for daytime wear, not too formal, but yet not too casual.

'Okay,' said Isabel. Eleanor and Isabel spent the next few minutes trying to get Isabel into the dress. Dresses were beautiful, flattering and befitting for any female, but incredibly hard to get into!

Isabel was quite tired by the time she had finished putting on the dress. She studied her appearance in the mirror.

Isabel was a naturally attractive girl. Her nose was straight, completely centred and quite demure and her rosebud shaped-lips could smile or pout equally well. She was blessed with creamy, clear skin and pronounced cheekbones. Yet it was her eyes that stood out, blue, like the blue of the tumultuous ocean, striking and oddly piercing, captivating and enchanting. She had a slim figure, with long limbs and slender fingers, curves only where she needed them. Her hair was raven black and shiny, cascading down her back like a waterfall of the night.

She smiled, and in the vivid yellow dress, looked like the human version of happiness and sunshine.

'It looks great,' Eleanor told her. That was the final thing she needed – Eleanor's approval was essential.

'Thank you,' said Isabel. 'Now, to breakfast.'

She moved towards the door, but her feet managed to find an uneven stone, and it sent her sprawling to the floor in a most unladylike fashion.

Groaning, Isabel got up and checked her dress. Luckily, it hadn't been ripped. However, she felt a bruise forming on her knee and when she looked at her hand, it was red from the impact.

Eleanor rushed to help her up.

'Some things never change,' said Eleanor, and they both burst into laughter.

x.x.x

'Lady Isabel, you look beautiful,' said King Tristan, as she entered the dining hall in a swoosh of yellow silk. Luckily, there were no falls as she glided in.

'Thank you, your highness,' replied Isabel, curtsying deeply. She caught Zachary's eye and grinned.

She fluidly sat down at the table, her posture perfect and a pleasant smile planted on her face. The servants brought in the food when everyone was seated – at the table was King Tristan, Queen May, Prince Zachary and little Princess Dana, Isabel, her mother, Leah, and her father, Phillip.

'I have a favour to ask of you and your family,' blurted out King Tristan, not bothering with small talk. King Tristan had always been one for the blunt approach.

'Anything for you, my lord,' said Leah obligingly.

'I'm sorry for the short notice,' said King Tristan.

'Please, don't apologise,' said Phillip amiably. Isabel's parents were friends with the king, but they were still his subjects.

'My son, Prince Zachary, is riding to Camelot tomorrow to visit King Uther on my behalf. He was meant to go with Samson, but last night Samson fell ill. He needs a partner to ride with, even though he is an excellent warrior, two people are better than one. I could not employ a knight, they are all needed at the moment. I ask if Isabel would be willing to accompany Zachary to Camelot. He will be staying a few weeks, but King Uther will provide everything – he is a good friend of mine.'

'Of course!' Isabel said quickly. She was eager to please the king, but even more eager to go to Camelot. Isabel loved adventure, and to travel to Camelot sounded very exciting. Isabel had never been to Camelot before.

'Daddy, why can't I go?' little Princess Dana complained. She was seven years old, and very cute with golden blonde hair and freckles dotting her nose.

'When you're older, you can go to Camelot,' promised King Tristan. 'Leah, Phillip, will you allow your daughter to accompany Zachary?' Isabel awaited her parents' reply with bated breath. She was an adult – 20 years old, but she still lived with them and it was basic courtesy to ask the permission of the parents.

'If she wants to, she can go,' said Phillip, smiling at her daughter.

'Thank you!' said Isabel, giving her father a hug.

'Thank you,' said King Tristan. 'Zachary leaves tomorrow morning – Isabel, you should start packing right away!'

'Right!' said Isabel. Packing for a few weeks in one day? Isabel was in for a very, _very_ long day.


	3. Chapter 2

Hey guys, here is the next chapter. I really love writing this fanfiction, but if I don't get any reviews soon, I will be really sad :(. So please review, and enjoy!

-Lauren

x.x.x

'A trip to Camelot?' asked Eleanor incredulously. 'And you're leaving _tomorrow_?'

They were both in Isabel's chamber, packing like madwomen as they threw clothes into the pack and ran around the room in a frenzy.

'Yes, with Prince Zachary,' said Isabel, grabbing a dress out of her wardrobe. 'It'll be fun!'

'Yes, I'm sure it will be fun,' said Eleanor, ransacking a box of shoes, 'but why didn't you get more notice?'

'Zachary was meant to go with Samson, but Samson fell ill last night,' Isabel explained, trying to find her sword.

'Oh, okay,' said Eleanor, stuffing some clothes into the pack.

'Sorry to leave you, but you can have more fun with me gone, right?' said Isabel, clutching her riding boots with one hand and a shirt with the other.

'Oh yeah, I absolutely _hate_ it when you're around,' teased Eleanor, holding a water skin. 'I'm going to go and fill this up,' she said, leaving the room quickly.

Isabel nodded. She looked around. They'd packed haphazardly – Isabel wasn't sure what they had packed, or what they still needed to find, but she knew that her sword wasn't around. She looked under the bed, behind the curtains, then ran around the room in a frenzy.

'Where's my sword?' she asked, pulling her hair out. She knew that she could find her sword in a moment if she used… magic.

No, she thought, I can't use magic. She did one more round of the room but the search proved fruitless.

'Where's my sword?!' she shouted at herself. That was it. She had to use magic. Her eyes flashed golden, and suddenly the contents of the room were lifted into the air, every nook and cranny exposed. There it was, Isabel could see it under a pile of clothes in the corner.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Isabel froze and the items floating immediately dropped to the ground with a loud crash.

'Isabel, are you okay?' asked a voice, concerned by the loud crashing sound.

'Everything's okay!' said Isabel, panicking. She rushed to the door and found herself face to face with Prince Zachary.

Prince Zachary was the same age as Isabel, a strapping man of twenty years with messy, curly brown hair that fell about his face in a way that caused all the noble women to _sigh_. He was definitely good-looking, with broad shoulders, a charming smile, chiselled features, and plus, he was the Prince! He could have looked like a toad and girls would still be falling over themselves for him.

Sure, they had been childhood friends forever, but there was still no denying that Zachary was incredibly handsome, and Isabel was still an ordinary girl that couldn't quite break free of the charms of the prince.

'Are you alright?' he asked again. He studied Isabel, who at this moment in time was quite a departure from her usual elegant self. Her hair was a mess, she was wearing riding clothes but had put her shirt on backwards, and sweat was beading down her forehead like little raindrops.

'Oh, yeah,' said Isabel, panting slightly. She leaned against the doorframe and tried to look calm. 'I'm just trying to pack.' She smiled at Zachary earnestly, and pretended that she was relaxed, even though her room was an absolute mess.

'Isabel, your shirt,' said Zachary. Isabel looked down, and to her horror, found that her shirt was on backwards. She pretended to be nonplussed, but she couldn't stop the blush of embarrassment form forming on her face.

'Oh,' she said. 'I'll fix it later,' she said casually.

'Sorry for the short notice,' said Zachary apologetically. The short notice had obviously sent Isabel into a frenzy.

'Oh, that's nothing,' said Isabel, smiling.

'Do you need any help?' he asked. 'I'm all packed at the moment.'

'Oh, no, I'm fine,' Isabel lied. 'I've got it all under control, Eleanor and I.' Zachary highly doubted this statement, as he looked around the room. It was a mess, like Isabel herself.

'Are you sure?' Zachary asked.

'Yes, I'm sure,' said Isabel. 'I can't wait until we go,' she added, hoping it would detract attention from her embarrassingly messy room.

'Yeah, me neither,' said Zachary, smiling. 'I tried to get you to come with me at first, but my father got all huffy, saying that I should go with a boy instead, that you would probably not even want to go…'

Isabel laughed.

'Of course I'd want to go!' she said.

'Yeah, that's what I told my father, but he didn't listen. Luckily Samson got sick, really,' said Zachary, grinning.

'Yeah, pretty lucky,' said Isabel. 'Anyway, I'm going to continue packing. What time are we leaving tomorrow?'

'At dawn,' said Zachary. 'Good luck with the packing!'

'Yeah, thanks,' said Isabel. She turned around and lightly placed her hand on the cupboard, and suddenly, the whole thing overbalanced and came crashing to the floor.

'Isabel!' cried Zachary. There was a loud crash as the cupboard hit the floor, sending a layer of dirt flying into the air. Isabel found herself covered in the dust, and sneezed.

'Oh God,' said Isabel, looking at the wreckage.

'Are you okay?' Zachary asked.

'Yeah,' said Isabel tiredly.

'My lady are you –' Eleanor came rushing at the sound, and found the cupboard on the floor, Isabel covered in dust and Zachary standing, stunned. 'What happened?' Eleanor asked.

'Oh, I just put my hand on it, and the whole thing came crashing down,' said Isabel sheepishly. She bent down to try and lift the cupboard so that she could examine the wreckage, but the cupboard was very heavy and Isabel felt her back strain under the pressure.

'Here, let me,' said Zachary, grabbing the cupboard and lifting it.

'Thanks,' said Isabel, embarrassed. Zachary put the cupboard back in its place, but now all the items that had been lying on the shelves and in the drawers was all over the floor – bowls, cutlery, statuettes, a whole lot of underclothing, and much, much more.

'We'll handle it,' said Isabel. 'I'll see you tomorrow at dawn!' said Isabel, trying to wave Zachary away.

'Are you sure?' he asked.

'Yeah, yeah,' said Isabel, smiling at him to try and reassure the prince. 'Bye!'

'Okay, bye!' he said, leaving, quite confused. When he reached the corridor, he realised the hilarity of the situation and laughed all the way back to his own chambers.

'Isabel –' said Eleanor, looking with horror upon the upturned items.

'Eleanor, can you go and saddle up Silverdew?' Isabel asked.

'But Isabel, the cupboard –'

'I'll take care of it,' said Isabel confidently.

'I can saddle her up later –'

'Eleanor, can you please go and saddle up Silverdew?' Isabel said, rather forcefully. Eleanor got the point.

'Okay, I'll be right back.' Isabel nodded.

'Thanks, Eleanor.'

Eleanor left and Isabel was left alone with the wreckage of her own hand. She closed the door after Eleanor, and took a deep breath.

Her eyes turned gold, and in silence, everything on the floor ascended slowly, like enchanted princesses waking from a slumber. With swishes of her hand, Isabel directed everything back into the cupboard. The shattered bowls mended themselves, the cutlery was stacked neatly, all the clothes folded themselves and everything settled into its rightful place.

Then, she compressed everything in the pack so that it would fit, and her sword zoomed out from under the pile of clothing to lay beside her pack in a neat pile. Various items flew across the room and landed neatly in her pack, until it was full and Isabel had packed everything. She returned all the remaining objects to their rightful places, closed the doors to her wardrobe, neatened her bedcovers and cast the dust out the windows.

Isabel smiled triumphantly. Magic couldn't _possibly_ be bad, she thought.

Eleanor came in, stunned.

'You cleaned it all up already?' she asked incredulously, looking around the room like it wasn't real, like this was all a dream.

Isabel simply smiled.

'It's amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it,' she said, grinning.

x.x.x

Isabel met Zachary at the dining hall at dawn.

They had a quick bite to eat before they set off for Camelot. It would take maybe two days to reach King Uther's palace from here.

'Stay safe, won't you?' Leah said to her daughter.

'I'll be fine, Mum,' Isabel promised.

'Look after my son, won't you, Lady Isabel?' said King Tristan, laughing.

'Oh, I will, your highness,' said Isabel, grinning at the King. Zachary rolled his eyes at his father.

'I think Isabel will be the one needing looking after,' said Zachary teasingly. The parents burst into raucous laughter, while Isabel pushed Zachary playfully.

'I'll see you in a few weeks, father,' said Zachary.

'Stay safe, children, and good luck!' said King Tristan, and with a slap of the horse, they were off, riding to adventure, to the unknown.

x.x.x

The day of riding passed quickly, Isabel and Zachary recounting tales of their childhood and discussing everything from court matters to what mischief they would get up to in Camelot. They raced each other across the fields, laughter ringing out in the open air.

Soon the sun was setting, creating a brilliant conflagration of colours that the two riders witnessed together, words blown out of their mouth by the sheer beauty of the sky. There was nothing to say, they just watched.

'We should make camp soon,' said Zachary finally, as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.

Isabel nodded. 'We should make camp in those woods, just ahead.'

'Okay,' said Zachary. They reached the woods and dismounted their horses, tying them to the trees and setting up camp on the ground. The bare floor was hard, covered in pesky twigs and not at all like the luxurious beds in the palace that they were used to. Still, there was something about getting back into touch with nature that made Isabel smile.

Zachary lit a fire (Isabel had a notorious habit of setting everything surrounding the firewood on fire), and they cooked dinner, which, tonight was stewed rabbit. Zachary cooked – Isabel could not cook to save her life. (Last time Zachary had let Isabel cook, her boiled potatoes had been cooked in too much water, and for too long – they had dissolved into a mush that mixed with the water to create a beige-y, watery excuse for boiled potatoes).

'We should get to sleep soon – we'll keep riding tomorrow night, that way, we'll be able to reach Camelot by dawn. Is that okay with you?' asked Zachary.

'You know I can ride for twice as long as you,' teased Isabel. 'Is it okay with _you_?'

Zachary scowled.

'I'm fine with it – I can keep riding just as long as you,' he challenged.

'Sure,' said Isabel, grinning. 'No whining like last time,' she warned.

'I – I was not whining!' protested Zachary passionately. 'I was simply… commenting on the distance.'

'You said, "Why is it so _long_? I'm so tired, I wish we were there already! And this stupid rain…"' said Isabel, the grin on her face widening with glee.

'I did not say it like that!' Zachary objected. 'I merely said "It's a long journey."'

'Whatever you say, _sire_,' said Isabel, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

'Don't call me sire!' said Zachary. He hated it – everyone called him sire. Isabel liked to call him sire to tease him.

'As you wish, _sire_,' said Isabel.

'Isabel!' said Zachary, annoyed. Isabel simply grinned.

'Sire!' she replied cheekily, mimicking his tone of frustration.

'I'm going to sleep,' said Zachary, knowing that he had lost this battle. He lay down on the floor and turned over.

'Oh, this ground is so hard – blast it!' Zachary whinged. Isabel laughed.

'You're whining!' she accused. Zachary groaned. She had won again.

'Goodnight,' he said finally, not wanting to admit defeat.

'Sweet dreams, sire,' said Isabel mischievously. Zachary sighed. Isabel turned over, but she rolled a bit too energetically, and found herself rolling down the hill. She screamed and Zachary jumped up, to find his best friend landing with a thud at the bottom of the hill, covered in leaves, grass, mud and twigs.

'I'm fine, I'm fine!' she proclaimed, getting up and waving from the bottom. Isabel then tripped over her blanket, falling to the ground again.

Zachary burst into laughter.

x.x.x

Isabel was standing over a man she didn't know. He was blond, very handsome, and lying shirtless on his bed as he slept. Isabel watched the steady rising and falling of his chest, and wondered why she was here.

She could see out the window – it was midnight, the moon high in the sky and the palace covered in darkness. She looked around the room – the man was rich, whoever he was. He had a vast wardrobe, as well as lavish goblets and luxurious bed linen. On a dressing table, Isabel spotted a crown.

Wait, this man was royalty? How could that be? He was not King Tristan, nor Prince Zachary, and he was definitely not Zachary's little sister, Princess Dana. Who was he, then?

Something was wrong – very, very wrong. Isabel shivered involuntarily. Isabel could feel it in her bones, her intuition was screaming 'danger!' and she was very jumpy.

A rat scampered in the corner of the room, and Isabel had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out. She was on edge. This place was dangerous, but she didn't know what was wrong. The mystery made her all the more terrified.

Quietly, she crept closer to the bedside. This man – Isabel had never seen him before in her life. Yet she knew that he was not the dangerous one. There was something else here; something else was the force of evil that made Isabel so scared.

She looked down at her hands, and found a dagger. Good. If she had a dagger, she could use it if she was attacked.

_**Isabel.**_

It was that voice again! Isabel held her head in terror, anything to make it go away!

_**Isabel, you can't escape from me,**_ the voice taunted.

_No!_ she cried silently.

_**It is your destiny, Isabel. You know what that dagger is for.**_

Horrified, Isabel looked down at the dagger she was holding in her hands.

_**Do it. Do it NOW.**_

Isabel tried to fight the urge, but she, suddenly possessed by something other than her own sane mind, climbed onto the bed softly, so softly that the sleeping man did not even stir. Slowly, she brought the dagger up in the air, and it glinted in the silver moonlight.

_NO!_ she screamed at herself, but somehow, her body didn't hear her. They were two separate things now, and she had no control.

_**Kill him!**_

The dagger came down quickly, burying itself in the man's chest. Blood spurted everywhere, and Isabel was screaming, but no noise came out. Nobody could hear her. The man's eyes flickered open, horrified, but then he slumped and was lifeless.

Isabel had murdered him.

x.x.x

'NO!' she screamed. Zachary watched his fevered friend, not knowing what to do. He held her hand and wiped the sweat from her brow.

'Isabel, wake up,' Zachary said, shaking her. But Isabel was not to be called from her nightmare just yet. Zachary knew that she was in pain, she was in agony, and he hated having to see her like this.

Isabel let out a blood-curdling scream that shook Zachary to the bone and echoed in the emptiness for what seemed like forever. She squeezed Zachary's hand tightly, and he watched her, worried. What was wrong? He couldn't do anything – he couldn't defeat the demons in her mind, and he hated being powerless against something that was hurting his friend.

'Isabel, it's just a dream,' he said softly. She was still screaming, tossing and turning restlessly. Zachary held her down so that she didn't hurt herself, even though Isabel was strong and kicking him quite hard.

Finally, she stopped screaming and her eyes flew open. Her whole face was fraught with terror, and she was so, so scared.

'Isabel,' said Zachary gently. 'It's alright, it was just a dream,' he cooed. She was still disturbed, but the sight of Zachary's face calmed her.

_It's just a dream,_ she told herself, trying to calm down. _It's just a dream._

Isabel was still breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, and Zachary could feel her heart pounding at what certainly was too fast to be healthy. He held a hand to her cheek and wiped the sweat from her face.

'It's okay,' he assured her gently. Slowly, he helped her sit up, and held her hand.

'Are you alright?' he asked, extremely concerned. Never had he seen Isabel so shaken in his life. Isabel was strong, and nothing really scared her, but now, in the pale moonlight, she looked like a vulnerable child scared by the monster under the bed.

'Zachary, I –' she cried, then burst into tears. He held her tightly, not sure what else to do. She kept sobbing, and he stayed with her the whole night.


	4. Chapter 3

Hey, here's the next chapter! Isabel and Zachary arrive in Camelot and meet the familiar cast of Merlin…

Enjoy!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Dawn came, and Isabel finally broke away from Zachary, her eyes tear-stained.

'Are you alright?' Zachary asked, looking at Isabel, deeply anxious.

'I'm fine,' lied Isabel, shaking Zachary off and standing up. She wiped the tears off her face and feigned a smile. 'Shall we get going, then?' she asked, trying to sound normal but failing to disguise the tremble in her voice.

'Are you sure you're ready?'

'Yeah,' said Isabel feebly. Zachary didn't quite believe her.

'We can wait another day if you like – I don't mind –'

'I'm fine,' said Isabel decisively. 'Let's go.'

x.x.x

Isabel was all the more eager to ride through the night so that she didn't have to risk having a nightmare while sleeping. As they expected, they reached Camelot by the following dawn.

It surprised Isabel how many peasants were awake in the early hours of the morning – the sun had only just risen, yet as they rode through the city of Camelot, the place was buzzing with activity. A few locals recognised Prince Zachary, bowing deeply as he passed.

They reached the gates of the palace, dismounted their horses and were met with the red-cloaked guards.

'Your purpose, boy?' they demanded, watching Zachary and Isabel suspiciously. Obviously they didn't recognise Prince Zachary.

'That's _your highness_ for you,' said Zachary, not pleased with the guards.

'Your highness?' scoffed the guard. 'You're not Prince Arthur – who do you think you are?'

Before Zachary could reply with a princely scolding, King Uther came rushing out, saving his guards from further embarrassment.

'Sire, this boy here –' said one of the guards, but King Uther simply knocked him out of the way and stood in front of Prince Zachary, smiling.

'Prince Zachary, your father told me of your arrival! It is good to see you again,' said King Uther, stepping forward with open arms. Prince Zachary knew the protocol – he did not have to bow, as they were both royalty. Prince Zachary and King Uther embraced for a moment, and then broke apart.

'It is good to see you again, King Uther,' said Zachary.

'It is good to see you again,' King Uther replied.

'My father sends his apologise – he cannot leave just yet, so he sent me in his place,' explained Zachary. King Uther nodded.

'He has informed me of that. Your father and I are good friends,' said King Uther. Zachary smiled. 'Who is the woman that accompanies you?' King Uther asked.

'Lady Isabel, daughter of Phillip Escutcheon and Lady Leah,' said Zachary. King Uther smiled.

'Your highness,' said Isabel politely, curtsying.

'Rise, my child,' said King Uther. Hesitantly, Isabel rose and looked into the eyes of the King. She was not usually nervous around royalty – she had no problems chatting with King Tristan, but King Uther was a stranger, someone she didn't know and someone she couldn't predict. Luckily, as Isabel looked at the King, she found that he had a kind face. She was put at ease and smiled.

'It's an honour to meet you, your highness,' said Isabel.

'Welcome to Camelot, Lady Isabel,' said King Uther. 'How long will you be staying, Prince Zachary?'

'A few weeks,' answered Prince Zachary.

'Excellent,' said King Uther. 'I will prepare a welcome feast for you tonight. Oh, I'm sorry, you must be exhausted from riding! I will have some servants to show you to your chambers in just a few minutes,' promised King Uther.

'Thank you,' said Prince Zachary.

'Please, follow me. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask,' said King Uther.

'Your hospitality is greatly appreciated,' said Zachary, nodding.

They followed King Uther into the palace. Even though Isabel had lived in the palace her whole life, surrounded by beauty and splendour, the royal palace of King Uther was quite a beautiful place to behold, with its high ceilings and stained glass windows. There was something very majestic about the whole place. Isabel smiled.

Their footsteps rang out among the hallways as they strode into the castle, all three of them holding their head high, knowing their status well. Servant gawked at the sight of the newcomers, but King Uther shooed them away. Finally they reached the dining hall, where the court members were having breakfast.

King Uther introduced them to everyone at the table – when they learned of Prince Zachary's identity, every single one of them rose to their feet and bowed or curtseyed.

Prince Zachary was trying to keep his face straight. Isabel was grinning – she knew how much Zachary detested being bowed to – he was a good man and believed all men were equal. It was too bad everybody adored him, really.

Isabel tried to remember the names of the courtiers, but her memory wasn't that great. She just hoped she wouldn't be put on the spot any time soon.

'And this is Lady Morgana, my ward,' said King Uther, waving his hand at the woman sitting beside the throne. She was very beautiful, with pale skin, wavy black hair and moss green eyes. She rose and curtseyed to Prince Zachary, who kissed her hand in return.

'I'm afraid my son is absent,' said King Uther. 'He should be here shortly. Will you join us for breakfast?'

Isabel's stomach growled embarrassingly. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson – she was mortified!

'I guess so,' said Zachary, grinning at Isabel.

At that moment, a man entered the room, wearing a billowing red cloak and armour.

'Ah, Arthur! This is my son, Prince Arthur – Arthur, there are some guests I would like you to meet,' said King Uther.

Isabel didn't get a good look at Prince Arthur until he crossed the hall and turned to them. When she looked at him, her heart stopped.

Yes, Prince Arthur was extremely handsome. He had golden blond hair that was ruffled slightly, attractive eyes and a brilliant smile. His shoulders were broad and he was tall and muscular, carrying a sword at his side and looking extremely majestic as he stood with his back completely straight, the truest portrayal of a prince.

Yet it was not any of this that made Isabel's heart stop.

Prince Arthur was the man in her dream.

Without warning, her vision faded and everything went black.

x.x.x

Isabel fainted, falling to the floor fluidly like a feather. Zachary moved quickly to catch her so that she didn't hit her head on the floor. He quickly checked for a pulse – her heart rate was fast, but her heart was pounding nonetheless. She was breathing as well – just simply unconscious.

'She must be exhausted from the journey,' said King Uther. 'I'm sorry I didn't show you to your chambers straightaway!'

'No, no,' said Zachary, 'don't apologise. It's alright.'

'Gaius!' called King Uther. From the sidelines emerged a white-haired man with a kind face and many wrinkles.

'Yes, sire?' asked the man called Gaius.

'Please tend to Lady Isabel,' ordered King Uther. Gaius nodded. King Uther clicked and a few servants appeared at the scene. 'Show Prince Zachary to the rooms I have set aside for him and Lady Isabel,' King Uther ordered.

'Yes, sire,' said the servants, bowing.

Zachary gathered Isabel into his arms – luckily she was a slim girl, she was very light.

'Your highness, please follow me,' said one of the servants. Zachary followed the servants, accompanied by Gaius, out of the dining hall.

x.x.x

When Isabel awoke, she was no longer in the dining hall, faced with the man in her dreams, but lying in a four-poster bed with Zachary at her side.

'What happened?' she asked Zachary groggily.

'You fainted,' Zachary informed her. 'In front of the whole court, as well as King Uther, Lady Morgana and Prince Arthur.' He grinned at her.

'Oh no!' cried Isabel, deeply embarrassed.

'Don't worry, no one thinks worse of you because of it,' said Zachary. 'Are you alright, though?'

Isabel thought of the dream, and Prince Arthur. No, she was not alright.

'I'm fine,' she lied. 'I guess I was just a bit… exhausted.'

'Guess I _can_ ride longer than you, then,' teased Zachary.

'Hey! Wait! No, that doesn't mean anything!' protested Isabel vehemently, sitting up. Zachary laughed.

'Okay, okay, calm down,' he said.

'Here, this will make you feel better, my lady,' said an old man that Isabel had not noticed before, holding out a small phial of a clear, colourless liquid.

'Thank you,' said Isabel, taking the phial.

'That's Gaius, the court physician,' Zachary explained. Isabel nodded, and drunk the liquid in the phial. She gagged – it was disgusting! But once the vile taste had slid down her throat, she suddenly lost the feeling of sluggishness and felt much more energetic.

'Thank you,' she said, rather surprised. 'I feel much better.'

'Gaius' potions always make people feel better,' said a boy, who Isabel had not seen until now. She looked at him, and found herself confused. He was quite young, maybe around her own age, with dark hair, piercing blue eyes and a goofy smile.

Somehow, Isabel felt that she had seen this boy before. But how… He was so familiar, but his identity was just out of reach. She couldn't _quite_ place him, but she did know him, she knew this boy…

Zachary saw Isabel's furrowed eyebrows and quickly explained.

'That's Merlin, he lives with Gaius and is Prince Arthur's manservant,' said Zachary. Isabel nodded and tried to remove the confused expression from her face. Who was this Merlin? He was so familiar. She kept eye contact with him for one moment longer, and then was distracted by a knocking at the door.

Merlin jumped up to open the door, and Isabel's eyes followed him to the doorway.

Prince Arthur came striding in a moment later. Isabel tried not to look directly at him, for fear she might faint again. She braced herself – she knew she would have to face him sooner or later – it would be rude not to look at the Prince. Taking a deep breath, she looked up and saw Prince Arthur at the foot of the bed.

Her heart was racing but she kept herself under control.

'Your highness, I'm afraid I can't curtsey,' she said, but nodding her head in respect instead.

'That's perfectly alright,' said Prince Arthur, breaking his grim expression and smiling. Now that she was calmed, Isabel noticed that Arthur was extremely handsome.

'I'm sorry about earlier,' said Isabel. She had fainted just as they were meant to be being introduced to Prince Arthur.

'Oh, don't worry about that,' said Arthur. 'I'm used to it.'

Isabel shot him a quizzical look.

'Many girls faint at the sight of me,' he said arrogantly, grinning. Isabel wasn't expecting that comment. She paused. She wasn't sure what to say back to Prince Arthur. He was a prince, after all.

Zachary sniggered; Isabel elbowed him and shut him up.

'I'm sorry,' said Isabel. 'Truly, I am. If only you weren't born with such a horrifying face, maybe it wouldn't happen so often.' Gaius gasped, and Zachary and Merlin tried to stifle their laughter. Arthur was taken aback, looking both shocked and amused at the same time.

Isabel suddenly realised how rude she had been, but she was not going to back down now. She hoped Arthur had realised she was joking, and had not been offended.

Arthur paused for a few moments. Isabel didn't say anything; her eyes just sparkled with cheekiness.

A single laugh broke the tense silence. Arthur turned and found that it was Merlin.

'Merlin!' Arthur scolded.

'Sorry, sire,' said Merlin, hanging his head.

Arthur stood up, and Isabel could swear he was almost smiling. Good, so he hadn't taken offence to the whole thing.

'Well I'm glad you're well, Lady Isabel,' he said finally.

'Thank you,' said Isabel, not knowing what else to say to the prince she had just teased.

'Merlin, come with me. I need you to polish my armour,' said Arthur. Isabel watched Merlin as he rose. There was something, _something_ about him. It was so close, yet so far. Isabel couldn't put her finger on it, and it was bugging her. He watched the two boys leave, and then turned back to Zachary.

'I can't believe you did that!' he said, staring at Isabel as if she was some sort of god.

'Neither can I,' she said, laughing nervously.

x.x.x


	5. Chapter 4

Isabel was settling into the chambers. They were spacious, grand, and quite beautiful. King Uther was generous to give his guests such nice chambers. She placed a vase of flowers on the dressing table, unpacked some of her clothes, and lay down on the bed. There were a few hours until the banquet; Isabel would have to get ready soon, but first she wanted to go and see Gaius, to get another phial of that potion – she was feeling oddly drained.

Before she left, there was a knock at the door.

'Yes, who is it?' Isabel asked.

'Lady Isabel, it's Gwenevere, Lady Morgana's maid,' the voice called. Isabel opened the door and found a pretty, dark-skinned woman standing in front of her.

Gwenevere flashed a nervous smile at Isabel, and curtseyed.

'Lady Isabel, Lady Morgana just sent me down here to find out if you needed help with anything,' said Gwenevere. 'Not that I think you need help – I'm sure you're perfectly capable… ma'am,' said Gwen nervously.

Isabel laughed, and put Gwen a little at ease.

'Thank you. I was just about to go down to find Gaius – could you tell me where I could find him?' Isabel asked.

'Oh, yeah, sure,' said Gwen. 'I'll take you there. Have you got a maid with you?'

'No, I came here alone,' Isabel said.

'Would you like help getting ready for the feast?' asked Gwen.

'I…' Isabel thought. Dresses _were_ hard to get into, and she could hardly ask Zachary for help…

'Lady Morgana offers her invitation – after I show you to Gaius', you can come to her room with me and we can all get ready together,' Gwen offered. Isabel smiled.

'That would be brilliant, thank you,' said Isabel. Gwen nodded.

'Here, I'll come with you to Gaius',' said Gwen.

'Okay,' said Isabel. They set off together. 'I… I really like Camelot,' said Isabel, trying to make conversation.

Gwen was rather surprised – usually no one but Morgana, Arthur, Merlin and the other servants bothered to talk to her.

'It's a beautiful city, isn't it?' Gwen said.

'Have you lived here long?' Isabel asked.

'My whole life,' said Gwen, smiling demurely.

'That's cool,' said Isabel.

'Camelot is a very… interesting place,' said Gwen, laughing. 'You never know what's going to happen next. Here – Gaius' chambers are just up these stairs.'

'Thank you so much, Gwenevere,' said Isabel. 'Could you tell me where Lady Morgana's chambers are, for after I visit Gaius?'

'Don't worry – I'll wait out here, my lady,' said Gwen.

'Are you sure?' Isabel asked.

'I'm sure,' replied Gwen.

'Okay, thanks,' said Isabel. 'I won't be long.'

Isabel climbed the stairs, and quietly knocked at the door. A few moments later, she was greeted by Gaius.

'Lady Isabel!' said Gaius, rather surprised. 'What brings you here?'

'Oh, sorry to intrude, but I was just wondering whether I could have another phial of that potion? I've been feeling a little tired again…'

'Of course, of course, my lady,' said Gaius, smiling. 'Here, come in.' He opened the door wider and revealed his house. There were bubbling potions and all kinds of odd contraptions on Gaius' desk, and a whole wall was filled with books. It was an intriguing place.

And sitting on a chair was Merlin.

'Lady Isabel,' he said, jumping up and bowing promptly.

'Merlin,' said Isabel, nodding at him. Oh, he was _so_ familiar! What was it? Isabel frowned. There had to be _something_. He had striking blue eyes – oh, his face was so familiar…

'Here you are, my lady,' said Gaius, handing Isabel another phial of the clear liquid. Isabel tore her eyes away from Merlin and took the phial from Gaius.

'Thank you so much,' said Isabel.

'No problems,' said Gaius. 'If you need anything else, send a servant down – there's no need to walk all the way down here from the guest's chambers.'

'Oh no, it's fine,' said Isabel. 'I enjoy a good walk.' Isabel smiled, and she found that Merlin was smiling too.

Isabel was turning to leave when Merlin cut in.

'Lady Isabel,' he said, a little breathlessly. 'That thing before, with Arthur – it was brilliant.' Isabel grinned.

'Why, thank you,' said Isabel, trying hard to contain her glee over the incident. 'Anyway, thank you, Gaius. I have to go get ready for the feast now.'

'Of course,' said Gaius. 'Anytime, my lady.'

Isabel took one last look at Merlin, who she still could not place, and then left.

'All done, my lady?' Gwen asked.

'Yes,' said Isabel. 'Oh, I'm sorry! Do you mind if we stop at my room on the way, I need to bring my dress if we're to get ready.'

'That's fine,' said Gwen. They started walking back to Isabel's room.

'Hey Gwen, do you know Merlin?' Isabel asked. She had to get _some_ information on this curious boy.

'Yes I do, why do you ask, my lady?' asked Gwen.

'Oh, I was just wondering,' said Isabel casually. 'Is he just Arthur's manservant?'

'Yes, and he lives with Gaius,' said Gwen, a little surprised by Isabel's interest in Merlin. Gwen wondered – did Isabel _like_ Merlin?

'When did he come to Camelot?' Isabel asked. She was being a little nosy, but it was not like Gwen could berate her for it.

'Oh, sometime last year,' said Gwen. 'He's a rather remarkable boy, isn't he?' she noted, wondering how Isabel would react to that comment.

'Yes,' mumbled Isabel. 'Rather remarkable.'

They stopped by at Isabel's chambers and reached Morgana's chambers soon, just in time to get ready for the feast.

'Gwen, Lady Isabel,' said Morgana.

'Lady Morgana, thank you for your kind invitation,' said Isabel, curtseying. Morgana, the King's ward, was at the same rank as a princess would be.

'Oh, don't curtsey,' said Morgana, waving her hand dismissively and laughing. 'We're all equal here.' Isabel smiled. She liked Morgana. 'Let me see your dress,' she said.

'Here,' said Isabel, holding out her dress. She had brought only two formal gowns – she had to pack light. This one was a deep purple, with golden stitching. The dress was cut just above the bust, and skimmed below the shoulders. It was sleeveless, only a small band of fabric around the arms, and the fabric was silk, with a light, transparent, meshy material layered over the skirt. The bodice was sequinned and intricately embroidered. It was one of the most beautiful gowns Isabel owned, and as a member of court, beautiful gowns were plentiful in her wardrobe.

'That's a beautiful dress,' said Gwen.

'Thank you,' said Isabel. 'Hard to get into, though,' she said, laughing. The three girls chatted pleasantly as they got ready.

'Which one?' Morgana asked, holding up two gowns – one a deep, blood red, the other, moss green, like her eyes. Isabel weighed it up. Morgana would look stunning in either.

'The green,' said Isabel. 'It matches your eyes.' Morgana smiled.

'Gwen?' she asked. Isabel found herself smiling – Morgana, too, asked the opinion of her maid.

'I agree with Lady Isabel,' said Gwen. 'The green.'

'Okay then,' said Morgana. 'The green dress it is.'

'Gwenevere,' said Isabel, 'are you going to be attending the feast?'

'Yes,' Gwen said. 'I'll be waiting on Morgana.'

'Great,' said Isabel. Once the girls had wrestled their way into their gowns (after much laughter), it was time to put on the make up. Morgana and Isabel sat side by side at the dressing table, while Gwen hovered around and helped.

The door opened behind them and immediately all three turned around swiftly.

It was Merlin.

'Merlin, don't you know how to knock?' said Morgana, staring at Merlin.

'Oh, sorry,' he said sheepishly, with a cute expression on his face of surprise and remorse.

'What is it?' Morgana asked.

'I, uh…' Merlin was flustered. Gwen had her hands on her hips, watching Merlin and shaking her head. Morgana towered with her stare, demanding an answer. Isabel was trying not to laugh.

To hide her laughter, Isabel turned back to the mirror, and suddenly she gasped. She saw Merlin in the mirror, beside her own face, and she suddenly realised why the boy was so damn familiar.

Merlin looked exactly like Isabel herself!

Isabel looked in the mirror, hardly believing it. They were so similar that it was truly uncanny. The same pronounced cheekbones, the same dark hair, the same rosebud lips, the same straight nose, the same blue eyes! He was thin, she was thin. What was going on?

Isabel tried hard to keep herself calm. Was this some sort of sorcery? Was he just taking her appearance to tease her? What was up with this? Isabel frowned, troubled.

'I – I, Gaius asked me to give this to you,' said Merlin, holding out a small bottle of liquid.

'Thank you,' said Morgana, taking the bottle from Merlin. 'Now, go on! I'm sure Arthur needs help getting ready for the feast, and this is a girls only area.'

'Sorry, bye!' said Merlin, rushing out.

'Funny boy,' said Morgana, laughing.

Isabel was silent.

x.x.x

'Thank you for all the help,' Isabel said to Morgana, when they were done getting ready. All three girls looked quite stunning, Gwen especially commendable because she was pulling off beauty in a servant's dress.

'No problems,' said Morgana. 'You're welcome to come again, any time.' Isabel smiled.

'Thank you,' said Isabel. 'I'll see you at the feast!'

She hurried back to the guest rooms, where Zachary would be waiting. The feast was starting in only a few minutes, and they had to enter together.

'Zach?' she asked, knocking on the door to his chambers.

'Isa–' Zachary stopped mid sentence as he opened the door and came face to face with a beautiful woman wearing a purple gown. He had the breath knocked out of him momentarily, while Isabel just smiled and watched him.

'What's up?' she asked, when he hadn't responded for a few moments, just standing in the doorway, stock still. 'Are you going to let me in?' she demanded.

'I – oh, sorry,' said Zachary, snapping himself out of his reverie. 'I, you look great,' he said, rather breathlessly.

'Thank you,' said Isabel, 'but you sound far too surprised for me to be sufficiently complimented,' she teased.

'No, I mean –' said Zachary, tripping over his own words. Isabel had never seen Zachary so flustered in her life – it was quite amusing.

'So, are you ready?' she asked. Zachary cleared his throat and tried to compose himself.

'Yeah,' he answered. 'Do you want to go now?'

'Well, the feast starts in a few minutes, I think that would be quite a good idea,' said Isabel, laughing.

'Alright, let's go,' said Zachary, running a hand through his hair and taking a last minute check in the mirror.

'Oh, stop being a girl,' Isabel complained. 'You look fine, come on, we'll be late!'

'Okay, okay,' said Zachary. 'Care to accompany me?' he asked, holding out his arm. Isabel linked her arm through Zachary's, and stuck close to him. She smiled; he was comfortingly warm as she stood next to him.

They strutted down to dinner, arm in arm, Isabel feeling very royal in her flowing gown and Zachary feeling very lucky to have such a beautiful woman standing next to him.

The dining hall doors flew open theatrically upon their arrival, and the whole court rose once again to show their respect to Prince Zachary. King Uther raised his hands and smiled; he sat at the head of the table, wearing a crown and formal red robes.

'My dear guests!' he said, his voice booming across the hall. 'Please, there are seats here.' He indicated towards two seats at the head of the table, opposite Arthur, who had his chin cupped in his hands and looked bored, and Morgana, who was smiling and truly looked like a princess.

'Thank you,' said Zachary, as he and Isabel took their seats. Isabel's gaze caught Arthur's eyes, and she wondered what the prince thought of her. Was he still offended? Isabel guessed not, from the slight smile that threatened to spread across his lips, held back by Arthur's self-restraint. Then, she looked behind Arthur, where Merlin was standing, clad in servant's robes and wearing an awkward, cute-boy smile. He looked so, so much like herself. Now that Isabel had seen their reflections in the mirror, it was obvious. She wondered whether anyone else had noticed.

'I pray you are feeling better, Lady Isabel?' said King Uther, watching Isabel with concerned eyes.

'I am, thank you, your highness,' replied Isabel, smiling at the king to reassure him of her health.

'The food will surely bolster your spirits,' said King Uther.

'I'm sure it will,' said Isabel. There was silence for a moment, and then Uther spoke again.

'Zachary, it's been quite a long time since Arthur and I have seen you. What do you get up to nowadays?' Uther asked. 'I remember you and Arthur came to me one day, when you were about ten and visiting with your father, and both of you declared to me that your one purpose in life was to be a knight.'

Both Arthur and Zachary laughed at the memory.

'I remember that day,' said Zachary, grinning at Arthur. They were obviously good friends. 'Unfortunately, my father won't let me be a knight, he says it's too dangerous for a prince.' Zachary scowled momentarily. Isabel smiled knowingly – she knew all about the feuds between Zachary and Tristan over his knighthood. 'I just do general princely duties, I guess.'

King Uther nodded.

'Well, I'm a knight,' said Arthur, looking rather proud about it.

'Captain of the royal guard,' King Uther added. 'I think it's good for a man to be a knight, prince or not.'

'Try convincing my father!' said Zachary, laughing.

'Your father has always been stubborn,' said King Uther teasingly.

'That's true,' agreed Zachary.

'I can't believe you're not a knight!' said Arthur. 'You were the only person that could put up a good fight against me.'

'Ahem?' said Morgana, eyes glimmering.

'That doesn't count,' muttered Arthur. 'I was going easy on you.'

Isabel laughed. Morgana had beaten Arthur in a swordfight? She liked Morgana even more now.

'You should join us when we go hunting one day,' Arthur offered, changing the subject. 'I'm sure you'll have fun.'

Zachary smiled.

'That would be great, thanks.'

They chatted for a little while more, about the past mainly and what they were doing now. Isabel didn't dare talk with Arthur as she had before, not in front of King Uther, so she was perfectly civil and demure. While Arthur and Zachary reminisced, she watched Merlin, who was talking to Gwen. Who _was_ he? Some distant cousin she hadn't met? Just someone who looked coincidentally like her? No, this was no coincidence.

'Are you two ready to eat?' King Uther asked, snapping Isabel's attention back to the royalty.

'Yes, thank you,' said Zachary.

King Uther stood up and clapped his hands, and almost immediately servants rushed into the hall, like a tidal wave of people, carrying plates that held delicious, steaming hot food that made Isabel's mouth water. The scents wafted to the noses of the attendants of the feast, and collectively they sighed with delight.

'Please, eat,' said King Uther, when the plates had been placed in front of everyone. Isabel didn't want to be the first to reach for the food, King Uther didn't look like he was going to move, Morgana also didn't want to be first, and Prince Zachary was unaware of protocol, hesitant to reach over and take a chicken drumstick.

It was Arthur that took the food first; Isabel smiled. He didn't care about rules – he was hungry.

'So, Isabel, what is your story?' King Uther asked. 'I know your parents, Leah and Phillip. They are good people.'

'Thank you, sire,' said Isabel. 'Well, I reside with my parents in King Tristan's palace. Life is good, I guess.' _I know how to use magic. And I have terrible, terrible nightmares. In one of them, I killed your son,_ thought Isabel silently. 'This is my first time in Camelot, and may I say, it is an absolutely _beautiful_ city,' said Isabel honestly.

'Why, thank you,' said King Uther. 'Camelot has always been my favourite place in this kingdom.' Isabel nodded.

'Do you know how to handle a sword?' Morgana asked.

'Don't be silly, Morgana,' said Arthur dismissively. 'You know women don't fight.'

'Excuse me?' Morgana asked, holding her head at an angle that was both threatening and attractive. Arthur didn't dare answer her back. Morgana smiled. 'Anyway, do you?' she asked, turning back to Isabel.

'I have taken sword fighting lessons in the past,' Isabel said. It was true – her parents had employed one of the knights to instruct her, though it hadn't really ended well. Isabel had never been the most co-ordinated of children, and this held true in the way she fought. To say the least, she would definitely not be joining the royal guard anytime soon.

Zachary scoffed.

'Yeah, you have, but you're not any good!' he said, laughing. Arthur joined in, and Isabel scowled.

'That's not true!' she said indignantly to Zachary.

'Yeah it is,' he replied.

'Prove yourself,' Arthur offered. Isabel stopped. What?

'What do you mean?' she asked warily.

'Come on. You, me, Morgana and Zachary, tomorrow morning, at the palace practice grounds. We'll do a bit of sword fighting. It'll be fun.' Arthur had a glimmer in his eye that suggested quite to the contrary of fun, for Isabel at least, but there was no way she was going to back down to a challenge.

'Okay,' Isabel said bravely. 'Tomorrow morning.'

'Good,' said Morgana, smiling. 'We can finally settle the score, Arthur.'

'It will be a great way to spend the morning,' said King Uther.

Then the conversation somehow turned to the economic state of the kingdoms. King Uther and Prince Zachary were obviously quite enthusiastic about this topic, however, Isabel wasn't really interested in the crop rate growth, which happened to be up 5% since last year. Arthur looked bored too, with a vacant look on his face as he rested his elbow on the table and cupped his chin in his hand.

Isabel gazed around the room for something interesting. Then, she looked behind Arthur and saw that Merlin was walking away. Isabel saw the opportunity and seized it.

'Excuse me for a moment,' she said quickly, rising to her feet and curtseying to the king. 'I will be back in a moment,' she promised.

Trying not to look hurried, Isabel followed Merlin, walking gracefully until she was out of the dining hall and then raising her skirts and breaking into a run. Merlin was walking down a corridor, blissfully unaware of her presence. Luckily Isabel had worn flat, soft shoes today – her footsteps were very soft, though she feared the rustling of her skirts would give her away.

Surprisingly, it was only when she knocked over a pot plant that Merlin spun around.

'Lady Isabel?' he asked, confused. Isabel cursed her clumsiness but smiled at Merlin.

'Merlin,' she said, nodding. 'I was just looking for…' Isabel paused. She was a terrible liar. She considered taking a subtle approach, but then thought, _Stuff that!_

She took a step towards Merlin; he watched her carefully.

Then quickly, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him against the wall.

Instinctively Merlin's eyes flashed gold and Isabel felt a jolt of electricity run through her. She jumped back immediately, stunned.

Merlin had just done magic! This boy was definitely more than what he seemed.

'Who are you?' she whispered viciously.

'I am so, so sorry,' Merlin said, looking scared and holding his hands up in front of him defensively. Isabel stared at Merlin, enthralled and very surprised. Merlin was a sorcerer! Maybe he _was_ just imitating her appearance… but why? And then, Isabel suddenly realised this was impossible. Merlin had looked like he did now _before_ Isabel's arrival – all of the people Merlin knew had not said anything about a change of appearance and he had lived in Camelot for a year now. Surely not everyone was lying to her…

Isabel was perplexed; she studied Merlin for clues but found none.

Merlin was scared. Someone knew his secret! His instincts had given him away. Was Isabel going to tell anyone? He was pleading, using his eyes to negotiate with Isabel – if his secret was out, he would be killed and could never fulfil his destiny…

'Merlin!' A loud voice interrupted the silent conversation of Merlin and Isabel. Both of them turned swiftly and found a handsome blond prince looking at them with a rather amused expression on his face. 'Lady Isabel. What are you two doing?' he demanded.

'I – we –' Isabel stuttered. _Come on,_ she thought. _Got to think quicker._ 'We were just –' She looked to Merlin, but he offered no help. He, too, was a bad liar.

'Yes?' said Arthur, looking entertained by this whole situation.

'I was just trying to find my way to the bathroom,' Isabel said, with feigned confidence.

'And Merlin?' Arthur asked. Merlin tried his best to look non-suspicious, but the confusion painted on his face gave him away.

'He was giving me directions,' Isabel said. 'Weren't you, Merlin?' She threatened him with her stare, saying, _If you don't agree, I'll tell Arthur about your secret._

'Yes, I was,' Merlin said, trying to sound confident, but failing.

Arthur paused, and studied the two of them. He was trying to look stern, but an amused smile was slipping onto his lips. He _knew_ the two of them were lying – they were both hopeless! Merlin and Isabel awaited his final verdict breathlessly.

'Well, go along, then,' said Arthur, hands on hips, almost grinning. Isabel and Merlin sighed with relief simultaneously. Arthur watched them, amused.

'Go up this corridor, turn right, and the bathroom is on your left,' muttered Merlin.

'Thanks,' said Isabel, striding off like she knew where she was going. She turned left, relieved to leave Prince Arthur behind.

'RIGHT!' shouted Arthur, after Isabel. Isabel felt herself blush and she turned around, walking in the other direction like she knew where she had been going all along. Merlin and Arthur laughed as she walked away.


End file.
